One Last Word
by Azca Sky
Summary: This mission was just too easy for him. No wonder it would be the last. A tribute fic for my fav chara that died far too early. And an un-beta-ed work that I shamelessly publish.


_Disclaimer: Mission Impossible is not mine_

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**Last Words**

_By Azca Sky_

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"Everything's ready, Honey?"

Jane's light voice made the question became a normal question a lover would ask, or even a mere friend would make. As if he wasn't preparing himself for a really dangerous mission, or should be officially called Mission: Impossible. As if he's just going for a trip to a nice picnic. _Picnic._ That thought made his smile widened.

He slid his hands to Jane's waist, lightly kissed her lips and fondly stared at her. "When did I ever become _not ready_?"

The woman couldn't help her grin. They both knew the answer. If being ready still cost your life, being not ready could mean that you're dead. She fastened his belt that never been a normal belt. A pair of black magnum pistol sheathed just behind the flap of his jacket, ready to use. In his jacket pocket, well hidden, saved many hi-tech gadgets to make their mission even more convenient and efficient. She made herself sure everything was in place. Then she stared at Trevor, smiling.

"If this job finished, I'll bring you to Mount Fuji, Japan. I know you love nature very much." He tried to kiss the lips again, as if to shut her answers, just to be stopped by a metal thing touching his own lips. His phone.

"We know that our job can never be finished," she replied hastily, "Besides, try to invite a girl _after_ you made sure you are alive the next day." Her voice seemed so wary, a little bit too emotional for a professional gifted agent. And a false-sentenced worry, too. Agent Hanaway wasn't a newbie, a live-dead mission should be normal for him.

"I want to see your face in my last moment if I were to die this morning." He held her right arm tightly, then gently lifted it to his face, kissing it. Smile never worn off from his face. He really wanted to say the words out loud. A small sentence he couldn't have said to anyone due to his present job. A small promising sentence.

Just when the door was opened inwards, revealing a figure of a baldy pale man in his early thirties. He looked the two, still holding hands, Trevor's other hand was in Jane's waist. "Oh, I'm sorry, I think I have disturbed a very romantic event. But sorry guys, we had to leave," Benji motioned his left wrist, showing his wristwatch without even needed to tell the time. Then, like White Rabbit in Alice In Wonderland, he left. Only to pop his head again, "I mean it. Please." He emphashized every words, really afraid that the two might decide to leave the mission to somewhere-heaven-knows and left him alone with the burdens of explaining.

Trevor laughed, followed by Jane's.

"Okay then," he said, applying his last gadget, a super eye contact with nine squares shadowed inside, hid the power of making him able to do face-scanning in sound speed, connected to the main database of IMF, in his phone.

They both smiling at each other again before finally leaving.

The mission really was so easy for him. He was assigned for 'taking' a suitcase with a code inside from a guy. He would use IMF's brand new technology, which would be able to distinguish identity in the matter of second. Put the carryer to sleep, get the suitcase, and leave without a trace. A standard operation for secret agents. When the carryer woke, he won't remember anything.

It should still be an easy mission, even though Jane was late in giving him the carrier's face. Even though a couple of men suited in black followed him, knowing that he purposedly aimed the suitcase. A little running, gunshot, and all should be over. An extreme aerial action that later performed to finish off his chaser also was a piece of cake for him.

He thought everything was over when the two bullshots confirmed his enemies' death. Relaxed steps coming from his feet, pretending to be a mere tourist or civilians. An action that would prevent suspicion from unnecessary people. Nothing else came to his mind other than go back quickly to the base, make reports, and take long holidays for him and Jane.

It went on until he entered a small, quiet pathway. A woman entered somewhere from the opposite direction. For several seconds, they seemed to be walking without making any effort to recognize each other's presence. No one saw the other specific, they all are just bypassers. And the message came.

He slowed down his pace to check the message, but only found a single face, blonde woman with oriental face, marked in red writings as: DANGER. But the warning proved to be useless. It was too late.

He lifted his head and found the exact same woman as seen in his warning. His contact lenses exploding with red marks, realizing the threat only several meters away. In the same moment, the threat-woman also realized the strange square sparkle in his eyes. Bullets released from her readied gun. Silencer brought down all the shot's noise, and even quieted the scream he should have had to a weak moan. She motioned to him, took the suitcase, and leave with a single sorry whispered to his ear.

Pain registered from the bulletholes he had just received. He panted, his mind accelerating to tons of action, but his body just wouldn't move. He knew he was going to die anyway. And he wasn't planning of any action that could save his life. But he's no going to die in vain. He was struggling to leave any sort of message that would eased the IMF's intelligences. In the end, it proved that he didn't need them.

A few seconds apart from the threat-woman's departure, Jane came to his sight. She hurried toward him, super worried, half crying. His eyes blurred with white mists of death, but the view of Jane's face remained clear in his sight. The weigh of the mission forced his brain to deliver the fact that his shooter was just steps away. And that instead of mourning for him, she should have chased after the woman, seized the suitcase, and arrested her for killing.

But every single signal from his brain was blocked. He couldn't say or do anything when Jane kneeled beside him, her arms spreading around his neck and chest, hugging him while crying for his life. She knew that it was too late. She held her tears and managed to stay clear. Slowly, her lips got closer to his, and they soaked themselves in a long kiss. The last kiss.

In the pressure of Jane's lips, his own lips formed a sentence, whispering a last, weak sentence, "I love you..."

The mission was just too easy. The words were much more difficult to say.

That's why, those became the last.

And the very beginning of his long holiday in heaven.


End file.
